Swiftly Brews the Storm
by trata
Summary: Post RoTK -A renewed attack by a band of Southrons sees Faramir, Legolas and Gimli set off to Ithilien soon after Aragorn’s coronation.
1. The Quiet of the Evening

Disclaimer: The Lord of the rings and all its characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  
Summary: The setting is post-RoTK. A renewed attack by a band of Southrons sees Faramir, Legolas and Gimli set off to Ithilien soon after Aragorn's coronation. Faramir and Legolas are yet to build their settlements in Ithilien.  
  
  
  
  
  
In the pale glimmer of the evening light the White city stood bathed in the warm glow enjoying peace after years of living in the shadow of nearing darkness. The same sun sent its shafts of light through the tall windows in the library of the Citadel. It rested on the dark head of the silent figure sitting on the parapet of one of those windows watching the city below. It gleamed off the dark strands imparting them a reddish golden hue. It shone on the face revealing lines not seen before, and sadness in the eyes that had for a short while vanished but now returned. Or so, it seemed to the two figures who entered the library in search of Faramir, Steward of Gondor.  
  
"Faramir," Prince Imrahil's voice seemed to raise his nephew from his solemn reverie.  
  
He turned to look at his uncle and the wizard he had always treated as much a mentor as he had his brother. Gandalf and Imrahil came up to the tall window.  
  
"I thought I might find you here," Imrahil said quietly.  
  
"Does not the city look beautiful in peace? See how the people smile and sing and make merry," Faramir said softly. Far below the daily business of the city continued as usual but as the steward said everyone seemed to have an extra spring in their step. Peace had indeed come to Gondor after long, very long.  
  
"And the one who helped her stand long enough to see this peace cannot see it himself," he continued softly. He had been sitting there remembering how often in their younger days his elder brother Boromir and he had sat on the parapets of the Citadel and watched their city first with enthusiasm as children, and then as they grew older and wiser, with growing concern and not little trepidation at the thought of the darkness reaching for their doorstep. But now Sauron had been defeated, and Gondor was safe. The rightful king had returned, and life was slowly nearing normalcy for him. But Boromir was dead, his father was dead, and he alone was left to witness this triumph. The dull ache in his heat that he had repressed for many days returned in force. From far away he heard Mithrandir speak. Something about a valiant man till the end. He had heard that oft. Boromir's companions from the fellowship repeatedly told him that. But it didn't help, it would not bring him back.  
  
Imrahil watched his nephew's face sadly. When he had returned to Minas Tirth after the defeat of Sauron, he had seen something near happiness in it. A calm and peaceful visage, the reason had not taken long to emerge. Whenever he was around the Lady Eowyn of Rohan, his nephew's face lit up with a joy that had never before been seen on his face. Long years of dealing with a stern father, who reserved any emotion in him for his elder son and heir to his stewardship, had left the younger son of Denethor with a reserved nature revealing little of his thoughts or feelings. Eowyn however had departed for Rohan some weeks prior after the coronation of Aragorn as king. And the one diversion for his nephew away from the thoughts of his brother and father was gone.  
  
Mithrandir was still speaking, " Come, they are looking for you downstairs, a council has been convened."  
  
Faramir nodded, and slipped off the window easily.  
  
They entered the hall of kings to find Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli seated there, as also the councilors. The grave expression on their faces revealed that all was not well. And information revealed the same.  
  
A few remaining Southrons had banded together in Ithilien, their intentions yet unknown. Some of the dark forces were still around of course, they had not all been vanquished, been though their overlord had been. But for peace to prevail, they had to be routed out. Aragorn wanted to send a party of rangers out to do just that in Ithilien. He wanted to go himself but wiser counsel had prevailed. Instead, his elven friend Legolas volunteered to go. Faramir had offered to go at much the same time, and the final decision was to send a party of rangers with Legolas, Faramir and Gimli the dwarf, who had jumped into the fray too, not wishing to hold back where his elven friend had entered. Two of their hobbit friends burst into the room almost immediately, expressing an equal desire to join the party.  
  
"Walls have ears here, it appears," Gandalf said drily.  
  
Pippin spoke up first, "We have heard much of Ithilien from Frodo, and of Henneth Annun, can we not come along?"  
  
Merry piped in with, "Yes, can we not come along?"  
  
"Not this time, my little friends," came Gimli's reply.  
  
It took a while to convince the two hobbits otherwise. Faramir finally mentioned a feast in Gondor scheduled two days later, which the rangers would have to give a miss to.  
  
"When we have set up our people in Emyn Arnen and the elves from Greenwood have joined us in the forests of Ithilien, there will be plenty of time for you to visit. I will take you to Henneth Annun myself, and you will find food to your hearts' content. But now, there is little for the two of you there, and much to do here.  
  
Early next morning, the party set out on horseback, some of Faramir's rangers who had served under him in Ithilien, Legolas, Gimli, and Faramir.  
  
The journey was quiet and without incident. Legolas was glad to be out in the open again, enjoying the fresh air on his face, the wind blowing through his long blonde hair and the greenery surrounding him. He silently took it all in letting nature refresh his mind.  
  
Gimli was brooding on his horse. He never felt comfortable on anything other than solid ground.  
  
Faramir was brooding on the time he had come down this way, returning from a visit to Minas Tirth, where his father had been grieving Boromir's death. Grief had hit him too, though he had had little time to give in to it, they had had a land to defend. 


	2. The Garden of Gondor

Disclaimer: The Lord of the rings and all its characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  
Summary: The setting is post-RoTK. A renewed attack by a band of Southrons sees Faramir, Legolas and Gimli set off to Ithilien soon after Aragorn's coronation. Faramir and Legolas are yet to build their settlements in Ithilien.  
  
Ah reviews, here goes:  
  
Gemstone - my first reviewer, cool! I'll try to get the updates up quick  
  
Susan, thank you for reviewing, I'm glad you liked it.  
  
IceAngel - good to hear from you, the bit about Gandalf and Boromir was more for Gandalf to console Faramir, Imrahil could have, but I felt since Gandalf had been with the fellowship, it would sound better from him, even though he wasn't actually there when Bormoir died. I'm trying to work on the changing viewpoint thingy, hope it works out fine:-) I don't mind the hints, it's my first fanfic so they'll help immensely  
  
  
  
Ithilien lay basking in the sun, a land surrounded by mountains to the east and north, and the river Anduin to the west. Across the river in the far distance lay the white mountains of Gondor.  
  
The journey was outwardly quiet, but the minds of all involved still had memories of the days before the defeat of the dark forces, so that the aim of their journey still remained uppermost in their thoughts, and each of them kept their eyes open for any sign of anything untoward.  
  
"Aragorn has sent emissaries to Harad, has he not? Do they not want peace with Gondor?" Gimli asked, "Who then are these?"  
  
"Some within Harad do not agree with that," Faramir responded, "Or perhaps they send them knowingly looking to weaken us when we do not expect it."  
  
"This a fair land," Gimli told him, thinking back to the days after the war when the company had rested there before proceeding to Minas Tirth for Aragorn's coronation as king.  
  
"Yes, it was once the fairest land in Gondor," Faramir replied.  
  
Ithilien had once been known as the garden of Gondor. It had since been besieged by the forces of Mordor repeatedly, the Nazgul and Uruks had over many years caused more and more of its inhabitants to flee the land, and then finally when the flames of Mount doom began to flare up again the last few inhabitants of Ithilien had crossed over the Anduin that snaked its silvery way through the land. Some had become rangers like those accompanying the company now. Damrod and Mablung both were descendants of men who had once inhabited this land.  
  
For many years Faramir had captained the rangers in these forests and they had patrolled the land between the Ephel Duath that surrounded the dark land of Mordor and the River Anduin, using the secret strongholds built by Turin II in their endeavour to keep Gondor safe, waiting for the day when the garden of Gondor would be restored to its former glory, but unsure whether they would live to see it. Not only did they have to guard Gondor from the orcs and other forces of the enemy but also from the men from Harad. The Southron regiments from Harad used the old roads built by the men of Gondor to send their regiments to join the dark host from Mordor.  
  
With the defeat of the forces of Mordor, it seemed that would happen. Aragorn had given Faramir Ithilien as his princedom and bade him make a home in Emyn Arnen, within sight of Minas Tirth, and Legolas too wanted to bring his elven folk to these forests.  
  
But right now, it seemed troubles were still destined to visit Ithilien. Little was known of the band of Southrons that had been reported as seen in the forests of north Ithilien, but Faramir could feel inwardly that it did not augur well. Harad lay well to the south, and there was little reason for their men to be here now. All the same, a close watch was being kept by the rangers in the south on the Harad road, and Aragorn's emissaries in Harad had been entrusted with the task of keeping their ears well open.  
  
They had ridden hard until the sun hung low in the sky, peering out through bands of clouds streaking across, indicating the possibility of rain. When the shadows began to lengthen the rangers led them towards one of the secret strongholds that were to be found all over the forests. A small copse of pines hid a small rocky hill with a stream flowing by. The narrowest of passages through those rocks led to a cave-like enclosure, where the stream had probably flown at one time.  
  
"We can spend the night there," Faramir told them as they headed towards the copse, "It is quite safe, as the passage allows only one person to enter at a time."  
  
Legolas frowned slightly when he heard this. Like most of his ilk, he had no love for dark, enclosed spaces. Gimli had no problems however. Faramir and the rangers had lived in places like this often and they too had no problem.  
  
"What of the horses?" Legolas asked, "they will not like being inside an enclosure like that, and we cannot leave them outside."  
  
Damrod shook his head, "No, we will not be in the cave, a passage leads out of the enclosure to a small open space surrounded by cliffs on all sides. They are very steep cliffs. We often camped out there. The cave is very damp because the stream is so close. There are only two ways in or out, the other is to the opposite side. It is as narrow as the passage you enter by. There is no fear of ambush."  
  
"But my friend the elf here, likes sleeping in caves," Gimli exclaimed wickedly, getting a very hard glare in response.  
  
They urged their mounts continuing to keep a careful lookout for anything out of place. The rocky hill was still some distance away, when they noticed the signs they had been looking for.  
  
"People have been this way recently," Legolas confirmed as they examined the ground around them. Even in the fading light, the signs of movement of a number of feet was noticeable.  
  
"Where would they be headed?" Gimli inquired.  
  
"The enemy had its hideouts in these forests too," Faramir said, "We located as many of the orc hideouts as we could but not all. It is possible the Haradhrrhim got to know of them too. We are not far from where the band was spotted."  
  
The presence of unfriendly forces soon became quite noticeable as a series of arrows suddenly flew through the air.  
  
  
  
To be continued.. 


	3. Under the Stars

Disclaimer: The Lord of the rings and all its characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  
Summary: The setting is post-RoTK. A renewed attack by a band of Southrons sees Faramir, Legolas and Gimli set off to Ithilien soon after Aragorn's coronation. Faramir and Legolas are yet to build their settlements in Ithilien.  
  
Defiler - you are too kind, thank you for your beautiful review. I'm glad that you enjoy the story. I have loved the books ever since I read them. I just hope that this story continue to interest you. Do keep reviewing and do feel free to let me know if any errors spot up anywhere.  
  
  
  
Legolas had already swung his horse to a halt, having heard the sound of movement from a hilly glade to their east. The arrows had come from that direction fired randomly at them, but hitting none. The horses reared, neighing furiously, forcing the riders to spend valuable time calming them down, before they could pursue their attackers.  
  
Legolas had his mare clamed first, before moving to help his dwarfen friend, who was not altogether renown for being an equine person. He grabbed at the reins of Gimli's horse, succeeding in quieting it down enough for his friend to slide off. They ran swiftly in the direction of the arrows to reach a small rise. Down below in a small sunken patch of land, could be seen two horsemen racing to join a small company galloping away at a furious speed. Distance and dim light combined to make it impossible to ascertain the colours they wore.  
  
"Men from Harad?" Gimli questioned.  
  
"I cannot say from this distance," Faramir shaded his eyes in an effort to see if he could make out anything, "Legolas you have keener eyes, can you make out their colours?"  
  
"I see black, and perhaps red, they are too far now," the elf replied quietly.  
  
"We must follow them, are thye not whom we are after?" Gimli asked.  
  
"No, they are too far, and we cannot track them at this time, they will have found their own hideout, and we cannot risk an ambush," Faramir replied.  
  
"The arrows do not tell much," Mablung carefully held one out in his hands, "They are roughly made, our *friends* have perhaps run out of ammunition."  
  
"That might explain why they did not opt for direct confrontation," Legolas replied comprehendingly, "The firing was merely a distraction while they made their escape."  
  
Mablung growled at the thought of having missed the opportunity to capture the men. With limited weaponry, they would have been easier to catch.  
  
"Our reports said they were much further north, and closer to the road," Faramir mused, "And why are they short of weapons if they intended to brew trouble?"  
  
"Perhaps their weapons fell in their encounter with our rangers," Damrod suggested.  
  
"Perhaps," Faramir muttered, as the group made its way back to the horses.  
  
"Have they found your hideout, do you suppose," Gimli said, once the horses had been gathered and they set off towards the copse again, having gathered all the scattered arrows.  
  
"No," Mablung replied swinging off his horse upon entering the little wood, and examining the ground carefully in what little light was left, "None has been here for a long while now."  
  
Legolas nodded his head in agreement, "It seems to have remained undisturbed."  
  
Faramir had pulled out most of his rangers from Ithilien during the siege of Gondor and diverted them to strengthen their garrison at the old capital of Osgiliath. The last few months with things returning to normalcy for the ordinary folk, many of the rangers had been allowed to visit home, leaving a smaller patrol in Ithilien.  
  
The rest of the way they made in silence, allowing the sounds of the darkening forest to take over completely. Crickets chirped somewhere, a breeze rustled the leaves, and an odd animal or two made a few cursory sounds.  
  
The sun had disappeared by the time they negotiated the narrow passage in the rocks, and coaxed their horses through the tunnel. An order from Aragorn had ensured that Legolas and Gimli would not need to be blindfolded to enter any of the strongholds, as had been customary practice for one who was not of the rangers. Legolas got his horse through with ease, and returned to help his friends with theirs, and led them to the circular little piece of land surrounded by rock formations on all sides. Mablung pointed out the other tunnel to Legolas and Gimli.  
  
After a small meal, the watches were decided and Faramir asked for the first one, opting to sit on a tiny ledge atop one of the rocky walls, hidden from view by a huge rock, keeping in sight both entrances, as well as the sweep of land around, Harad road somewherein the east invisible from where he sat, while the silver of the Anduin flickered to the west. Cair Andros lay up the river to the north west, Emyn Arnen to the south and the White City to the west.  
  
The others turned in for the night, so he sat quietly watching for the flicker of the river in the distance, remembering the day he had thought he'd seen his brother's body floating by, wondering if he'd been dreaming. Not for the first time, he wished his brother could have seen his beloved city as Faramir had the day before. The sun shining brightly down, the women smiling, children laughing and playing, all happy to be back in their city from the mountain villages where they had been sent for refuge.  
  
This was the Gondor Bormoir had wanted, the Gondor that Faramir himself had yearned for, as he had sat on watches at night, like this, here and in other hideouts across Ithilien, wondering if ever the fighting would cease. Leading his rangers, fighting by his brother's side, keeping Minas Tirth safe for the dawn of a new day when they could live without the undercurrents of the fear from the east, holding her for the king when he would return to take his rightful place.  
  
And now the darkness from the east was destroyed, and the king had returned to take his throne, but peace still seemed elusive. And they knew not why.  
  
He relinquished his watch to Gimli soon, when the stars had come out in their fullness glittering across the clear summer sky, and lay down to sleep, finding some semblance of repose as he breathed in the clear air, a slight breeze from the Anduin bringing with it the soothing scent of grass and wood and earth. It calmed him to an extent he hadn't felt lately, and lulled him to a short sleep.  
  
The next morning they rose with the sun, and set off in the direction of the horsemen they had spotted, towards Harad Road, only to come to a halt midway when they came across a party of rangers.  
  
Anborn, one of Faramir's men walked up to them as they dismounted in a small glade covered with long grass that had till moments before hidden the men, who had instantly recognised their old comrades.  
  
His news was not good.  
  
"We've been coming across more than a few interlopers, Capt - my lords," he said almost slipping back into the form of address he had always used for Faramir, even now unsure as to how he should address him, and settling for the easiest option by addressing both all of them together.  
  
"We came across at least three different groups of raiders yesterday, and we know not how many we may have missed, for we are few here, until more of our men return from the City and the villages."  
  
"I do not think the men of Harad want peace," Gimli muttered heavily behind Faramir.  
  
  
  
While away in Minas Tirth, from the outthrust battlement overlooking the Pelennor, could be seen a rider coming in from the road to the vales of the mountains of Gondor, swiftly urging his mount across the fields.  
  
To be continued... 


	4. More News

Disclaimer: The Lord of the rings and all its characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  
Summary: The setting is post-RoTK. A renewed attack by a band of Southrons sees Faramir, Legolas and Gimli set off to Ithilien soon after Aragorn's coronation. Faramir and Legolas are yet to build their settlements in Ithilien.  
  
-----  
  
The rider slung himself off his horse the moment he had passed through the makeshift gates of the city, and made his way swiftly upto the highest level of the city, where the king had already been informed of his arrival, by the soldiers manning the battlement.  
  
-----  
  
Faramir nodded glumly at Anborn's words. His hand tightened instinctively on the hilt of his sword.  
  
"I will have the garrison here strengthened," he said, and the underlying weariness in his tone did not go unnoticed by Legolas, who gave him a sharp glance. But the steward's face retained its habitual composure, as he listened to Anborn relate the positions of his men who were spread across the glades and thickets that dotted the land.  
  
"We must scout near Harad road," Gimli declared stoutly, "And see what else comes from there."  
  
"They travel in small bands," Faramir mused, "So as to not attract attention perhaps? But what is their purpose? Why make small raids at the rangers, and not aim for something bigger?"  
  
"Some were seen near Osgiliath, my lord," Anborn ventured.  
  
Legolas noticed a cloud pass on Faramir's face for barely a fraction of a second. And then it was gone. He simply nodded grimly.  
  
"The garrison there was much depleted," he conceded, "as were all along the river," came the soft abstracted addition.  
  
"Are there signs of much activity on the road?" Legolas asked frowning a little to himself, as Faramir fell into a distracted reverie.  
  
"Nay, my lord, if these men come, they come in small bands as Lord Faramir says," Anborn replied.  
  
"Small enough to make it unnoticed as far as Osgiliath," the steward said.  
  
Anborn nodded, his face clearly troubled.  
  
But it was Mablung who vocalized the worry, "this is more than just a small band of troublemakers, captain."  
  
"I do not like the sound of this," Faramir told Legolas, "the king should hear of this."  
  
"Hear of what?" Gimli asked, "We have nothing clear cut to tell him, but that there are a few bands of southrons roaming these lands." His tone was not condescending, and Faramir realised that, nodding in agreement.  
  
"Yes, it is not much to go by, but it makes me uneasy, and I would have him hear of it, before it becomes too late. As I would have reinforcements sent here, and to Osgiliath and Cair Andros. What do you say?" he turned to Legolas here, and the prince of Mirkwood suddenly realised that Faramir was looking to him for an opinion.  
  
"You may be right," he conceded.  
  
They found themselves heading back where they'd come from, frustration uppermost in their minds. Mablung and Damrod stayed back with their companions leaving the strange trio of elf, human and dwarf to ride back to Minas Tirith.  
  
"We have achieved nothing," Gimli growled, and his companions could do nothing but agree with him, as the horses thundered across the countryside.  
  
"Why are the garrisons along the river not in full strength?" Gimli asked when they slowed down to negotiate their way through some thorny scrubland.  
  
"They had high losses during the siege," Faramir replied tersely, "By the time the cavalry was sent forth from the city, and the knights of Amroth came to our aid, we had lost many." The transition from the third person to the first brought back to Legolas the fact that Faramir had been leading that retreat. And Faramir was obviously remembering the retreat at that moment, for his eyes looked somewhere far away, and his voice took a distant tone, while his hands tightened on his reins.  
  
"Many are still recovering," he continued seemingly under control, "and they are still rebuilding much of what fell then."  
  
His voice was curiously flat, and Legolas found himself silencing Gimli with a look as he sensed the dwarf wanted to ask more. Gimli stared back at him puzzled, and then took one look at Faramir's expressionless but pale face, and said no more.  
  
------  
  
"I come with news from Pelargir, sire," the messenger dropped on his knees in front of Aragorn, referring to the area in South Ithilien.  
  
"What news do you bring?" Aragorn asked the ranger, knowing in his heart that it could not possibly be good.  
  
"We face an attack from a Southron force sire, they take the fork coming towards Pelargir from the Harad Road, and will be upon us by the end of the day. There are not enough men to prevent them crossing the river, my king," the man's distress was evident on his face, as was the distress on the faces of all his listeners. 


End file.
